~LAYLA~
The drive back to Axel's mansion was completely silent.
It wasn't the awkward kind of silence where two people don't know what to say but this one was heavy, and suffocating. The kind that made you hyper-aware of everything you were feeling but couldn't say out loud.
I stared out the tinted window, my fingers absentmindedly rubbing at the spot on my arm where my father had grabbed me.
It didn't hurt much, but the memory of his cold touch stayed.
Once upon a time, those hands used to rest on my shoulders in praise. "That's my girl," he'd say, beaming with pride after every achievement I dragged myself through to earn his approval.
I was at the top of my class, graduated early, and learned the ins and outs of the corporate world before I was even legal to drink. All for what?
Recognition?
Validation?
